The Monster in the Alley
by gdono123
Summary: What if Erik was born without his deformity, and instead it was Christine who was born a "monster"? Would he still be able to love her? Would she love him back? (Sorry not the best at summaries) E/C. My first fanfic!
1. The Girl in the Alley

**A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to my account!**

 **So this is the very first fanfic I have ever written, so constructive criticism is appreciated, especially since I know I am not the best writer. I just had this idea and I couldn't keep it sitting in my laptop anymore, so I decided to give this a shot. So, here goes nothing! Please rate and review!**

 **Disclaimer** **: I, sadly, do not own Phantom of the Opera**

CHAPTER 1: THE GIRL IN THE ALLEY

A 27-year old Erik Destler sauntered down the streets of Paris, his bag in hand, after a long, frustrating day at the Opera Populair. The famed composer was loved by many, his many operas and other works adored by all. His tall, muscular build was not hard to miss, except in the dark of the night, while shadows covered the city. His glowing green eyes were the color of emeralds, and had a certain glow to them not many others could match. His dark, jet black hair was always slicked back in a mature way. He was an Adonis, a man that many women fantasized over.

While Monsieur Destler roamed the dark streets of Paris, another creature waited in the shadows. 17-year old Christine Daae sat in the alley next to his apartment building, hoping for some form of shelter. She was of average height, about 5'4, with long, chestnut brown curls that reached her waist. Her blue eyes hold many stories, many of which were hidden, down in the deepest depths of her soul. Christine also would have been called beautiful, if not for one minor fact.

The right side of her face was deformed, severely so, as she had been from birth. Though her heart was pure, and her sweet, soprano voice golden, this small fact was her downfall in society, the main and only reason she had been cast out of society. She wore no mask, as she had as a child. Once her parents had died, she had no money to buy a mask fit to her face after she outgrew her old one. So she walked the streets of Paris, alone, taking whatever she could to get by, and avoiding the people who ridiculed her by hiding.

Now Erik had no reason to care for this girl. He had everything he wanted in the world, riches, jewels, adoring fans. After all, he was the manager of the famous Opera Populair, and composer of works such as Don Juan Triumphant. He wanted for nothing. But still, the broken cries of the girl in the alley tore at his heart, and he broke away from his path home to search out the source of the cries.

He turned the corner, only to find a girl, no older than 17, crying in the alley, her knees tucked in to her chest and her face buried in her arms. He could only stand there and watch on, frozen in his place. What could he do? Why should he do anything? He had no reason to care. But still, this was no help to his aching heart that longed to reach out to the poor girl, dressed in rags, crying in the alley. Raising her face to look up to the sky, Erik Destler got a full look at the girls face for the first time. She was deformed. Hideous, a creature of the underworld. His brain told him to walk away, but his heart told him to stay and comfort the poor girl he felt pity for. "Why do you hate me God? What have I done to deserve this?" She cried, still looking to the sky. "I always told myself I wouldn't become a common street whore, the scum of the streets. But he has made me so! Why must you punish me?" She merely whispered, then returned to her former position, burying her face in her arms once more and sobbing. Erik could take the guilt and heartbreak no longer, so taking a deep breath he turned the corner and began to walk towards the suffering girl.

"Girl?" He said to her, his voice coming out more rough than he had intended it. She gasped and looked up at him, fear in her eyes. She began to back away swiftly, the poor girl. He held out his hand as a peace offering, and said in a much more comforting voice "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." "W-who are you? What do you want? Please Monsieur, I will give you whatever you want, just please don't hurt me." "I don't want anything from you, do not fret. Why do you cry, child? What has happened to you?" His words seemed to do no good though, as she began to cry harder at this. So instead of talking more, he simply walked over to the frightened, shivering girl and held out his hand. Looking up at him with tears still in her eyes, she gently took his hand and tried to stand, but collapsed as soon as she got to her feet. So instead Monsieur Destler scooped up the girl in his arms, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. With his bag and the girl in his arms, Erik Destler carried on through the night, back to his home.


	2. Empathy Was at the Brink of Extinction

CHAPTER TWO: Empathy Was At the Brink of Extinction

Christine awoke the next morning in a large, lavishly decorated bedroom, layin in a large bed with black bedclothes. _Where am I?_ She thought to herself, before the memories of the previous night came flooding back to her. The man dressed in black who came to her rescue, the other man and the women, the tempt of money...

She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, not yet ready to face that memory. She rose frm the bed and looked around the room. A wardrobe stood to her right, and a small bedside table sat next to the large bed with a dark wooden frame. No light came in from the room, except for a small oil lamp which was set to a low glow. Walking slowly towards the door, she cautiously wondered why the man who rescued her even helped her at all, nonetheless let her into his home (she could only assume)? No one had ever helped her. No one helped the girl with the wrinkled, discolored skin. No one sought out companionship in her.

She slowly turned the knob to the door, taking a step over the threshold and away from the safety of the room she had previously resided in. She could hear voices, coming from the room ahead. She couldn't pay any mind to her surroundings, she had to find the voices. Soon she reached the kitchen, where a woman dressed in all black stood along with a girl about her age, who stood in a powder blue dress adorned with white lace at the collar and sleeves. Never could she dream of being able to afford a dress like that. Shee stood in silence listening to the people who the voices belonged to. "The master won't be happy." "Yes, but what else are we to do Meg? Leave her sitting in there alone?" "But mother-" "No, Marguerite. There are times when rules can be broken, and this is one of those times." Suddenly the pair of women heard footsteps and turned their heads to the source of the sound. The one in the blue jumped as if startled, but the one in the black stood with her shoulders back, a calm expression on her face. "Ah, you're awake. I see you had no trouble finding your way out." She stood there, a shocked expression on her face. No screams? No gasps or cries for help? Who were these people? "Who-" "Come now, we must get you a bath and out of those clothes." And she dragged Christine away, back to the room she awoke in.

After a long, well-deserved bath, the woman in the blue with blonde hair helped Christine to dress in a dress not unlike the one she was wearing. _This must be one of hers._ Christine thought to herself. "W-who was the man in the black? Do you know him?" She asked timidly as the girl buttoned up the back of the dress. "The master? His name is Erik. A musical genius, he is. But he has a cold heart. God knows why, the man wants for nothing." They stood there in silene for another moment before the girl spoke again. "I'm Meg, the other woman you saw in the kitchen is my mother, we work for Erik." "I'm Christine. It's a pleasure." Once Meg was finished with her work, she left, leaving Christine with this warning: "Do not leave this room until the master comes home. He will already be angry enough as it is, what with us coming to talk to you. Be very careful Christine, very careful." After she was gone and Christine was alone, she sat down in the chair next to her bed and thought _What did I get myself into?_

 **A/N: There we go! I'm pretty happy with this chapter. BUT I have to give a sincere shoutout to my AMAZING beta, who wanted to remain anonymous, but she has been awesome putting up with my craziness and giving me really helpful writing tips, as well as editing this chapter and the many more that are to come. Anyways, thank you so much for reading and be sure to review!**


	3. The Music of the Night

CHAPTER THREE: The Music of the Night

 _The streets were cold and dark, and empty of people. The docks were straight ahead, perhaps she could sell something for a little money. Her hair, perhaps. All she had to do was get to the docks. Another step closer to the docks._

 _Then the women came out. Their necks boasted jewels and their lips and cheeks were adorned with rouge. Their waists showed corsets that cinched their waists. Their attire was in tatters, showing evident patches and stitches from wear and tear over the years. They should have been ashamed of their appearance, but it appeared as if they felt no shame at all._

 _Then the men came. Adorned with blue coats and flat hats, it was apparent they were sailors, probably just arriving home from a long voyage. "Who is that over there?" One of the sailors said, to a different man who looked as if he managed the women. "Haven't seen her before mate. She's not one of us." Said the other man, who was dressed in a dirty, light brown coat and matching brown top hat. Then one of the sailors began to walk over to a cold and frightened Christine, tilting his head to the side as if studying her every feature. "Well hello, lovely." His breath smelled of fish, and his face was covered in grime. He leaned in close to her face, and she quickly ran back, away from him and towards the women and the other men._

 _A hand grasped her shoulder, but this time it was a woman. "What's this? A new one? You look young enough, you will earn us much money. Come join us, dear." She suddenly gave out a scream in an attempt to get this filthy woman away from woman jerked her hand back, away from Christine as if she had been burned. "Let me handle her, Henrietta." Said the man in the brown coat. He began to walk slowly over to Christine, looking her up and down. "Come here for a bit of money, did you?" she nodded, words failing her. Yes the girl's face repulsed the man, but in the end he knew it was just her body that was valuable. "Join us, girl. The pay is good. All it takes is lying on a bed."_ So this is what my life has come to. _Christine thought to herself. "I won't. I won't." Christine said, backing away from the man. But the man grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, leaning down close to her face. Several of the other woman began to crowd around the pair, harsh expressions evident on their faces."You will work for me. I do not care about your pride." He said, sensing her shame. In the next second Christine kicked him and he released her, giving her the chance to run._ I have to get out. _She thought to herself._ I have to get out. _After several minutes of running for her life, the poor girl found an alley she could find herself away in, a dark alley._

Christine awoke with a jolt, her mind leaving the nightmare. _It was just a dream._ She tried to tell herself, but in her heart she knew it wasn't. It happened in her real life, and she couldn't pretend it didn't happen. But who here cared, anyways? She looked down and found that she was wearing the same dress from earlier, and she had fallen asleep in the chair next to her bed. She stood with a sigh, and it was then she heard the music flooding in from the hall outside her door.

It was beautiful. Pure, emotional music that only one who knew music all too well could evoke. Against her better judgement, she sought out to find the creator of this music which brought tears to her eyes. Soon she reached a room where a large, black piano stood, and sitting at the bench was the man, dressed in black, who had saved her the previous day. She stood in the doorway, unable to do anything as the music wrapped her in its sweet embrace. As she stood there, taking in the incredible sounds, the music all of the sudden stopped, and in its place a harsh voice spoke out.

"Why are you not asleep?" Said the man. "I-I'm sorry. I just... I awoke and heard the music and couldn't stay in the room any longer." He sighed and looked down at the keys of the piano for a moment, leaving the two in silence for a few moments before he broke it once more. "How are you feeling?" She tilted her head to the side. First, this man took her in to his home, despite the way she looked. Now he was asking how she felt? Who was this man, one of the few people in her life who actually took pity on her? But then a new question came into her head.

"What do you want from me?" She asked, tears coming to her eyes. Erik looked back at her with a flat expression on his face. "Excuse me?" "No one helps a girl like me without expecting something in return. So what is it? What do you want?" He stood, obviously angry by this statement. "You think me to be so cruel to believe that I expect something in return since I rescued you from the streets?" "It's how I'm trained to think about humanity. People can be cruel." He shook his head and scoffed. "What would you know about the cruelty of man?" She frowned and stated simply "Much, much more than you." Closing his eyes and breathing out a long, heavy, anger filled sigh, he said in a low, threatening voice "You will return to your room and stay there until I tell you to come out. Is that clear?" Tears came to her eyes, and with words failing her she simply turned and walked back to her room. Closing the door behind her, she collapsed on the bed once she was alone and began to cry, letting out all of her tears of confusion, anger, and pure sadness, until finally she let sleep take her away.

 **A/N: I'm happy with this chapter. I'm really really happy with this chapter. I am going to try to post once or twice a week, probably on Wednesdays or Fridays or maybe Saturdays, but I was so excited for this chapter I just couldn't wait to post it. Please remember to review! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Crossing the Line of Solitude

CHAPTER 4: Crossing the Line of Solitude

Christine spent the next day locked in her room, scared to find out what would happen if she dared to leave. As she lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, she heard a light knocking sound coming from the large, painted black door that stood in front of her. Rising from her previous resting place, she went to the door to find who her caller was. When she turned the knob to open the door, she was greeted by the woman who wore the same jet black dress with the hair to match who had greeted her earlier.

"Oh, hello." "Good evening, Christine. How are you?" "I-I'm alright, thank you," Somehow when this woman showed her empathy, it did not seem threatening or condescending, as it did when the man in the black, or Erik as Meg had told her, showed her any compassion. "You must be hungry." It was then that Christine glanced down and saw the tray of bread and tea the woman held. After she had set it down on the small bedside table, Christine had no hesitation in devouring the little food that was set in front of her. The woman merely watched on with a small smile on her face, glad she was able to help the poor girl. Christine glanced up in embarrassment, only to have her fears subdued by the woman's kind expression. She sat back up after finishing her meal, and the pair sat in silence for a moment before the woman in black spoke again.

"Oh! How rude of me. I am Antoinette, Antoinette Giry." She extended her hand out for Christine to shake. Christine looked down at the woman's hand before cautiously taking it. "It's a pleasure, madame. I'm-" "Christine, yes I know. My daughter told me." Looking at the ground and shaking her head, the same question that had plagued Christine for the past day came to her mind again. "Madame-" "Please, call me Antoinette." "Antoinette, if you don't mind my asking, why are you and your daughter, and your employer I suppose, being so hospitable? My face must frighten you, does it not?' The kind older woman smiled at her in a loving, maternal way. "No, my dear, your face does not frighten me. Or my daughter, or our employer for that matter. But if you must know, for me it is your eyes. Just by looking in them I can see that you need someone to show you sympathy." From the expression the woman wore, Christine knew she was being truthful.

With another tender glance, Antoinette took Christine's hands into her own and began to carry on with the conversation, desperate to discover more about this girl. "Where are you from? Do you have any family?" With closed eyes and a sigh, Christine began to open up to this woman. "I-I'm from Sweden, but I moved to France when I was six, with my father. My mother had died in childbirth with me. My father was a violinist, and he played whenever he could to earn a little money. It was enough to support the both of us, but we had very little. But he died, when I was twelve. Ever since then I have been doing whatever I can to get by, yet my deformity holds me back from earning too much money. I always end up on the streets." "A violinist, you say? You must have grown up very musically." "Yes, I did. In fact, when I was young I had a mask, and I would go to perform with my father. I would sing while he played." "Sing for me." Christine looked at the woman in shock. Sing for her? "No, I really shouldn't-" "Nonsense, no one will be around to hear you. I'm sure it will be beautiful." As the poor girl still looked hesitant, Antoinette took matters into her own hands. She rose from her original spot, pulled the girl up, and sat back down on the bed, ready to hear her sing. "Sing, my dear. I will not take no for an answer." So with those words, Christine took a moment to breathe, and began to sing.

The outcome of her singing produced a noise so beautiful that Antoinette could only sit and stare, under the music's beautiful spell. She had chosen an aria sung by Barbarina from the opera _The Marriage of Figaro_ , and her beautiful golden soprano tones soared across the room. The older woman sat and listened intently, a look of pure awe crossing her face.

Unknown to both of the women another figure stood outside the door, listening just as closely as Antoinette. After a long day working on final rehearsals for the opera house's new production of _Faust_ , Erik had returned to his home, greeted by a voice flooding his house and filling it with beauty and warmth. As soon as Christine stopped singing the spell was broken, and in it's place came a flood of compliments from Antoinette. And still, Erik stood to listen, waiting for the old woman to leave so he could give the girl compliments from himself. And criticisms, of course. Her voice was beautiful, no doubt, but lacked emotion which held her back from reaching her full potential. Catching a glimpse of the man outside the door, the older woman knew it was time for her to take her leave, so with a goodbye and a pat on the hand she left, giving Erik his opportunity for entrance.

"That was beautiful. Where did you learn?" Christine jumped, not expecting any more company for the evening. Turning back to the man, she asked timidly "W-What do you mean monsieur?" Sighing in frustration, the man looked down at his hands, but he attempted to control his temper and glanced back up at the girl. "I mean, where did you learn to sing?" "Oh. My father taught me, monsieur. Up until I was twelve." "And why was that?" He asked with a condescending curiosity present in his voice. Glancing down at the floor, Christine replied "He died, 5 years ago." _Only seventeen._ Erik thought to himself. "He must have been a great teacher. But you need a teacher now, one who will tend to your voice now, if you intend to reach your full potential." At this Christine scoffed. "And who would teach me? No one wants to teach the monster with the deformed face." With this comment an idea came to Erik's mind. "I will teach you."

Christine could only stare in awe at the man. "You what?" "I said I will teach you. Do not make me repeat myself once more." "You do not want to teach me, I will only anger you." "I will teach you. Your voice is excellent already, but I can make it better." "B-But, monsieur-" "We will begin lessons tomorrow when I return home from work. Good evening, mademoiselle." And with that he left Christine by herself.

She moved to sit on the bed, in shock as to what had just happened to her. _Why me?_ She thought to herself. But in the midst of her sorrow and surprise, a beam of sunshine began to shine through the haze as she began to realize music would become a part of her life again. For all she knew, this man could have been an angel. He rescued her in her time of need when no one else had, and he would be the one to bring back what was once so important in her life. A small grin crossed her face as she prepared for bed, and as she lay in bed she whispered something to herself she had not brought herself to say in a very long time. "Goodnight, papa."

 **A/N: Sooo what did you think? Okay first of all I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far! It means a lot to me. In fact, I get so excited I almost texted my beta at 5:30 in the morning to tell her that someone had reviewed. With that being said, on to my posting schedule! Since our school just got out yesterday, now that it is summer I am going to try to post about twice a week, but that may change since I am going to be traveling a lot. But anyways, thank you so much for reading and please remember to review!**


	5. A Peak Into the Forgotten Light

CHAPTER 5: A Peak Into the Forgotten Light

Christine awoke the next morning and quickly dressed, eager to find something to occupy her until Erik returned home and would be able to begin her singing lessons, as he had promised he would. So in the meantime she found Antoinette and Meg and helped them with their housework. She spent the day doing basic household chores, such as sweeping, dusting, laundry, and other things to help around the house. Antoinette had offered her words of encouragement as she went about her day, which showed how she was a naturally caring person. _She must be a great mother._ Christine thought to herself. As she stood in the kitchen washing dishes, she heard the creak of a door hinge being opened. Curious, she wiped her hands on the apron Meg had lent her for the day and went to peek her head out of the door to see if it was who she thought she was.

Now Erik was just returning home from a long day of work as there were final dress rehearsals for the next nights opening performance of _Faust,_ and therefore was in a very irritate-able mood. The chorus was always slightly off-tune, and the orchestra always ahead of tempo. Some of these things would not even be noticeable to a person with an untrained ear, but even the smallest mistake made Erik cringe in disapproval. With a heavy sigh he set his bag down at the front door of his home and began to massage his temples. Sensing his frustration, Christine spoke in a gentle tone, not wanting to irritate him further.

"Monsieur?" She asked timidly. "Yes, what is it?" He said with anger present in his voice. Christine took a step back, a little scared to find out what would happen if she angered him with her presence. "I'm sorry to bother you Monsieur, I was just wondering if..." She continued to ramble on nervously, not sure how to say what she wanted to say. After a few moments of this, Erik snapped, shouting "Stop babbling like an imbecile and spit it out!" Christine felt disheartened. How could she ever ask him for this without loosing all of her courage? "I'm sorry I was just wondering i-if you would instruct me on my vocals as you promised." With this Christine put her head down in embarrassment and shame. How could she have been so blunt with him?

Yet unknown to Christine this statement seemed to calm Erik's nerves slightly. _I did promise her that, didn't I?_ He thought to himself. But then the memories of her sweet soprano voice, full of potential, came flooding back to him, and in that moment he could hardly wait to begin her training. "Your vocal instruction, yes I remember now. We might as well get started now, before it gets to be too late." With an excited nod of her head and a heartwarming, childlike smile, Christine gladly rid herself of the apron, set it down on the counter, and quickly walked back to where Erik stood. He gestured for her to follow him, and then they were off through the dimly lit hallways of his house.

Soon they reached a room where two large, dark doors stood, as if guarding whatever was behind them. With a glance over his shoulder to an excited Christine, Erik opened the doors in one quick, graceful movement. As far as Christine could see, the room was simply a dark black void. But as he entered the room, Erik hastily began going around he room lighting candles, and the glow that they cast let the room's true glory be revealed.

In the very center of the room stood a large, black, grand piano, with white keys that shined. On the opposite end of the room were two windows, covered by thick curtains that did not allow any light to enter the room. Erik began to walk over to the piano, with Christine following closely behind. "Stand at the curve of the piano." He said, pointing to the place where he wanted her to stand. She rushed over to where he pointed, positioning herself to sing. "We will start on a basic C major scale." And began to play at that. In her excitement, Christine forgot proper singing posture and instead focused on trying to sing the best she could in an attempt to please her mentor. After Christine had finished with this, the criticisms began to pour from his mouth. "Stop slouching. Shoulders back, chin up. No, not that far up. Relax your hands at your sides. Spread your feet apart, and put one slightly in front of the other. She did as he asked until finally he was satisfied. He placed his hands back on the keyboard, ready to play and said in a low yet frustrated voice "Let's try it again, shall we?"

They worked like this for an hour. She would sing, he would criticize, she would adjust. It was a normal mentor-pupil relationship. Yet in Christine's excitement, most of his comments went unnoticed. With an exasperated sigh, he flicked his wrist as though sending her away, saying in a tone that showed his obvious frustration "Go to bed. We will continue the day after tomorrow" With hurried feet and a lowered head, Christine rushed to her room, closing the door behind her. With a confused smile, she began to prepare for bed. _Finally._ She thought. _The music is back._

 **A/N: What did you think? So I know that Erik technical plays the organ, but I decided to take an artistic liberty for this story. I know that I said that I would try to post twice a week, but I just couldn't this week, so instead I'm going to post two chapter today! I figured that was the next best thing. So anyways, thank you so much for reading and please review! I get so excited over reviews!**


	6. Thrown Back Into the Evident Darkness

CHAPTER 6: Thrown Back Into the Evident Darkness

The next morning Erik awoke at his piano. He stayed awake all night composing for his opera, something he did quite often. He did not need mush sleep when he was composing, it was almost as if he lived off of the music, showing his need for solitude when he was on one of his composing-sprees. He had always felt the need for solitude, even as a child. It was the way he was raised. Christine's evident passion in her singing had sparked something in him, a new bout of inspiration that would not cease to flow through his veins. But he had to stop, he knew that much. He had to leave to the opera house to oversee the new production. _So much to do._ He thought to himself. He had to warm up the chorus, the orchestra, and the stars of the show, make sure that the chorus members and the leading roles were ready for that night's opera, and so much more. _It's going to be a long day._ As the director and manager of the opera house his days were long and tiring, particularly on days such as this. Of course, he wasn't truly designated as the manager, but he liked to let the true managers believe they were the ones in charge, when in reality he was the one who ran everything.

Christine had quite a restless night, her slumber plagued with nightmares. She tried to tell herself it was just a nightmare, but she knew that they were never just nightmares. The memories were real, and she had to learn to accept that one way or another. Yet, now was not the time for such thoughts. She was up with the sun, and instead of choosing to lounge in bed she dressed and chose to make breakfast as a thank you to Antoinette and Meg. With the little time she had with her father in her life, he had taught her basic things, such as cooking, sewing, cleaning, and other such things. Though men did not normally learn these skills, he was forced to after his wife had died, and passed on these skills to her daughter.

Christine found eggs, ham, and a thick loaf of bread after searching the kitchen for a while. She began scrambling eggs in one skillet, frying thin slices of ham in another, and toasting bread at the same time. Multitasking was one of her few skills. Erik heard the delicious pops and crackles of food being cooked as he walked don the hall to the kitchen and chose to investigate. He had a while before he had to leave for work, anyways. As he stepped into the kitchen he saw someone he had not expected to see.

After hearing the click of boots in the wooden floor, Christine turned her head to find the source of the sound and saw her teacher from the previous night. "Good morning, Monsieur." "Erik." He simply stated. "I'm sorry?" She asked, confused. "Call me Erik. I have enough of the formalities at work every day." Christine turned back to the food, unable to look him in the eyes. Erik felt a stab of guilt for a moment. "I'm sorry, Christine. That was uncalled for." Christine began to put the food on serving platters. Still not looking up at him, she simply gave a quiet sigh and said "It's alright. I have gotten used to such things." At this Erik huffed. "And what would you know about 'such things'?" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. She finally looked up at him, anger in her eyes.

"Much more than you, I would assume." He frowned at her. "I would highly doubt that." _Who does he think he is?_ Christine thought to herself. _Does he even know? No. He couldn't know. He would never understand. No one ever understands!_ Christine slammed down the plate she was holding on the table in anger when he sad this. "Tell me, what awful occurrence has happened to you that would allow you to have any idea of my pain? Maybe you befriended the wrong person? Or perhaps your mother of father yelled at you once? What has poor little Erik been through that would have made his life so much worse than mine? Let me tell you my story. After my father died I had no money to buy a mask to cover my face. I was shunned by society! All because of something that wasn't my fault! People would chain my hands together or bind my ankles with course rope that would leave angry red marks when I finally escaped. People gawk at me like I am some kind of unwanted rodent! Children scream when they see me! Oh don't worry, I will save you the other gory details of my life story. I wouldn't want to upset you or scare you." And with that she rushed out of the room, leaving Erik aghast. When he finally heard her bedroom door slam, he picked up his work bag and left his house, now wanting nothing more than to be at work.

 **A/N: So what did you think? A totally different side of Christine was revealed in this chapter. Leave a review and tell me your thoughts! Thank you for reading and please review!**


	7. A Look at Chance

CHAPTER SEVEN: A Look at Chance

Christine ran up to her room, slamming the door behind her and collapsing on her bed, tears falling from her eyes. He doesn't understand... She thought to herself. But why would he? No one understands. No one ever will...

But unknown to Christine, another person heard the poor girls cries and went out of her way to try to take away some of her sorrow. Before entering, she went across the hall to the kitchen to prepare tea in attempt to comfort her. Entering the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of the breakfast that lay on the table and turned to her daughter, asking "Meg, did you do this?" With a shrug, Meg replied with confusion in her voice "No, I suppose that Christine did it." Antoinette smiled. What a sweet girl. She thought.

After preparing a tray of tea, Antoinette went back to the girls room and knocked softly on the door. Christine, still on the bed, heard someone at the door, and in a quivering voice called out "Come in." Wasting no time, Antoinette swiftly entered the room and set the tray down on the bedside table. She sat down next to the girl and as she poured the tea she asked with kindness present in her voice "Now, tell me what happened." Taken aback by her abruptness , Christine shook her head and began to say "I'm fine, really-" "Nonsense. If you were fine you wouldn't be crying right now. Now tell me what's wrong."

And so Christine began to tell her everything. Memories from her childhood, what happened after her father died, why she was crying now, everything. The only thing Antoinette could do was sit and listen When she was finished, she brought the girl into her embrace, and noticed how she could feel almost every bone in her body. She's far too thin for a girl her age. She thought to herself. Finally releasing the girl, Antoinette stood and left the room to do her chores for the day. When Christine attempted to help her, she simply pushed her back on the bed and let her have the day to herself. "You have done enough. Take a day off." Smiling, Christine sat back and closed her eyes, letting sleep take her once more.

Christine was awoken once more by knocks at her door, these ones more distinct than the ones earlier. Glancing at the clock on her wall, she noticed it was close to 10 at night. Who else would be awake this late at night? She wondered. But outside the door stood Erik, still in his dress clothes from the opening performance of Faust. Feeling guilty from his and Christine's earlier argument, he couldn't focus as well as he normally was able to. What is wrong with me? He thought. Why do I feel bad about this? She should be apologizing to me. But the remorse from his words earlier was eating away at him, so he found himself outside of Christine's door, prepared to apologize for his actions.

Christine opened the door to be greeted by the last person she wanted to see at the moment. "Good evening, Christine." Said Erik, making it apparent he wouldn't take no for an answer. "Good evening. What, may I ask, are you doing here so late?" "I just returned home from the opera house." "Oh." The two stood in awkward silence a moment longer before Erik spoke once again. "I-I wanted to apologize," he said nervously. "I was out of place earlier, and I wanted to apologize." So he really does have a heart. Christine thought to herself. "It's alright. Consider it forgiven." Another moment of silence passed , before Erik broke it once again

"I wanted to invite you to tomorrow's performance of Faust." Christine's eyes widened at this. He was inviting her to an opera? "That's very kind of you, but I can't." "And why is that?" From his tone of voice it was apparent that he expected an answer. "M-my face Monsieur." Of course, He thought to himself. How could I have forgotten. But a solution came to his mind. "You can watch in the orchestra pit. With me." Christine's jaw dropped. In the orchestra pit? "Monsieur-" "So it's settled then. Tomorrow night I will escort you, Antoinette, and Meg to the opera house to watch the performance from the orchestra pit. I shall see you in the morning, Mademoiselle." "Please call me Christine." "Then in exchange you shall call me Erik. Agreed?" "Alright, Erik." The smallest hint of a smile passed Erik's face, and he left Christine to sleep.

Christine stood there smiling before finally getting ready for bed, a smile on her face even after the moment her head hit the pillow. She was going to see an opera! A real, live opera! Only in her dreams had she ever thought of doing such a thing. And tomorrow her dream would come true. With those thoughts in her head, she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

On the other hand, Erik sat at his piano wondering to himself What have I done? Why was he showing such kindness to this girl? He had no reason to give her any sympathy. She was a beggar, the scum of the streets. I must put these thoughts from my mind. He thought to himself. So he set his mind back to his triumph, his Don Juan Triumphant, letting inspiration flow through him and let the notes rush to the page, loosing himself in the music until morning.

The next day Christine found herself with Antoinette, hunting through her old dresses looking for something appropriate to wear for that nights performance. "Here, try this on." Said Antoinette, handing Christine a simple, dark blue dress. As Christine walked back behind the dressing screen, she began to make conversation with Antoinette, asking her "How did you start working for Erik?" "Ah, it is a sad story. My husband died about 5 years ago, he had had problems with his heart all of his life. He had been great friends with Erik, and as soon as he heard of his passing, he offered me a job in his house. Meg and I had no place else to go, no money left, so of course I accepted. Now here we are." She said with evident sadness in her voice. As Christine stepped out from behind the screen, Antoinette was able to inspect the dress Christine had changed into. It fit like a glove. The dress fell perfectly at her hips and hugged her figure beautifully. "You look gorgeous, my dear." She said with a smile. "Really?" "Yes! The dress looks beautiful on you." With a shy smile to the ground, Christine blushed, showing her obvious embarrassment at this comment. "Truly, you look gorgeous. I know just the shoes to match." Walking over to her wardrobe, Antoinette pulled out a pair of shoes that really did match the dress. As Christine slipped them on, she noticed how they curved to her feet perfectly. "You look perfect." Antoinette said with a smile. Shifting uncomfortably where she stood, Christine looked up and pointed out "But, what about my face?" "Yes, what about it?" Looking at the floor, Christine began to explain "Throughout my life, people have ridiculed me, abused me, screamed in fear, all at the sight of my face. I don't know if I can go out without my face covered." Taking Christine's hands in her own, Antoinette reassured her "My dear, it doesn't matter what other people think. You are beautiful, no matter what they say. And besides, do you really think I would let anyone ridicule you? But if you insist, I do think I may have something."

She pulled out a large hat adorned with lace from her wardrobe and placed it on Christine's head. Adjusting it so that it covered the deformed half of her face, she took a step back and clasped her hands together. "Perfect. You look beautiful. Take a look." Stepping in front of the full-length mirror, Christine gasped. She was stunning! The dress touched the floor and flowed gracefully as she walked, and had a ribbon tied in a bow in the back at her waist. And the best part was, no one would be able to see her face. "Thank you so much!" She exclaimed, and embraced Antoinette. Returning the girls embrace, Antoinette smiled, happy to make the girl so excited. "Now come, it's about time we go." She said with finality, and the pair walked out to the sitting room to wait with Meg for Erik's return.

 **A/N: What did you think? Okay, I am so sorry that it took me so long to update! I am visiting with family that I haven't seen in a while, so it's been a little crazy. Anyways, thank you for reading and please review!**


	8. Angel at Last

CHAPTER 8: Angel at Last

Once Christine was dressed and ready, she and Antoinette joined Meg in the sitting room while they waited for Erin to return. This moment gave the three the opportunity to talk to one another, allowing them to further bond with each other. As Antoinette depicted the story of her first outing with her husband, the trio giggled at the adorably romantic details. As Erik finally walked across the threshold into his home, he paused, listening to the sounds of joy coming from the three ladies, and he couldn't help but wonder with a tinge of annoyance _Why must women always giggle so?_ But nevertheless, a smile briefly crossed his face, listening to the happy trio.

As he entered the sitting room, it was Meg who first saw Erik, as the other two had their backs turned to him, and she sat up straighter, making it apparent that someone had entered the room, therefore silencing the other two ladies. As they turned around to face him, Erik noticed the had that Christine wore, tilted at an angle so the hat itself and the lace adorning the hat covered the deformed half of her face. Antoinette was the one who stood first, and the other two soon followed, turning to face the only man in the room. But Erik could only pay attention to one of the women in the room that night. "You look beautiful, Christine." The uncovered side of her face flooded with pink as she looked down and quietly muttered a "Thank you." _Surely he couldn't have meant it. Could he?_ She couldn't help but question. She shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind, and followed the path he lead into the opera house.

Erik pushed through the crowd of people outside the doors of the large building to make a path for the three women to follow, and follow they did. Once they were inside and away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd, Erik took a deep breath. After a moment of hesitation, he lead the three ladies into the opera house, and down into the orchestra pit, where they positioned themselves next to him so they were able to see the stage. Christine could hardly contain her excitement. Never had she dared dreamed of being able to see a real opera! In the orchestra pit, no less! As people began to flood the theater Christine's heart began to race. With a smile that couldn't be smothered, she glanced over at Antoinette, her excitement evident. A smile appeared on the older woman's face in result of the girls happiness, as it seemed to be contagious.

When it was time for the show to begin and the lights in the theater dimmed, Christine held her breath in anticipation of what was to come. As the music started, her eyes widened at the beauty of it all, and finally, the curtains opened.

It was beautiful. The stage lights gleamed and the voices of the actors seemed to engulf Christine in a beautiful embrace. Her insides warmed and everything seemed right in the world for just a few moments. Glancing over at Christine, Erik saw the joy on her face and smiled, happy that he could bring her such joy. Even after the opera ended, the smile that had enveloped her face remained in place until the moment her head hit the pillow. She fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the day's events. She remembered the day of her fathers passing, how he had told her that he would send her the Angel of Music when he was in heaven. With this in mind, she said into the darkness. "Thank you papa. Thank you for sending my angel, at last."

 **A/N: Hi everyone! I am so sorry it took me so long to update! It's a long story, so I'm going to spare you the details, but long story short something happened and I lost some chapters :( Anyway, how did you like it? Review! It means the world to me!**


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE: Cheers to the Past, Cheers to the Future

The next morning Christine awoke and Erik had already left for work. The previous night's performance had gone exceedingly well, and he felt the need to arrive early to deliver some of his rare compliments to the orchestra and cast. So Christine went to help Antoinette and Meg with their chores for the day, as had become routine.

As Meg and Christine scrubbed the marble floors of the entryway, Christine noticed how Meg remained silent while she worked, which was quite out of character for her. Usually she was one to twitter away with Christine and her mother, which meant it took much longer for her to get her work done. She had a look of apprehension on her face. "Is there something wrong Meg?" She glanced up. "No, why do you ask?" "You just seemed so…quiet. It's unlike you." Her eyebrows furrowed as if in thought. "Well," She paused, reconsidering what she was about to ask. "There is something…" "Yes Meg? What is it?" "Nothing bad really, just, well if you don't mind… w-what happened to your face?" She finished quickly. Christine gave a small smile, glancing up at the girl who seemed so nervous that she would upset Christine that the smile she wore escaped Meg's eyesight. "It's alright, I don't mind. It happened when my mother was in childbirth. No one quite knows what happened, it just, happened." Christine could feel her heart sinking with each word, and Meg could see it in her eyes that it was a delicate subject. But Christine dropped the thoughts from her mind and let the previous mask of joy return to her face.

While Meg could not understand exactly what Christine had been put through all her life, she had an idea and did not press on the subject, attempting to reign in her ever-burning curiosity, not wanting to make Christine any unhappier.

The job went much faster with two people doing it, so with the house clean and tidy, the two girls went to the kitchen to help Antoinette with supper. From down the hall they could hear Antoinette busy at work. Yet as if on cue, as soon as the duo reached the doorway she halted in her task and began to cough, violently. They could do nothing but stand and watch, what else were they to do? But she quickly stopped and the girls hurried in, pretending not to have seen anything, and were immediately put to work.

The evening went as usual; supper was set on the table before Erik returned home. He ate in silence and solitude, and when he had left the three women rushed into the dining room to clean up, and then they would retire to their respective bedrooms. While walking back to her room, Christine felt a large hand on her shoulder. She flinched and flipped around to find who her attacker was, but much to her relief it was only Erik. She took a breath. _It's only Erik_. She assured herself. _I'm safe._

"I'm sorry for frightening you." He said. "You didn't. It's alright. How may I help you?" Erik smiled. He knew the poor girl was trying to hid her fear. What had happened to her that she would flinch at a simple touch? "I was only wondering if you would like to have a singing lesson." "Oh, oh yes. Of course." "Very well. Follow me."

He led her to his music room and sat at his piano. Christine went to stand in her normal place, at the curve of the piano, and adjusted so that she stood with the proper posture he had taught her. Erik played a chord and looked up at her, signaling her to begin singing scales to warm up her vocals. As her heavenly voice flooded the room, Erik's nerves began to relax and he let himself indulge in the sound of her clear soprano.

When she had warmed up her voice, Erik did not waste a single moment and handed her a piece of sheet music without even a glance up at her. She was given only a few moments to look over the music before he began to play a flawless intro, and Christine came in at exactly the right moment. The notes soared across the room and throughout the house. The high notes she was able to hit amazed Meg and Antoinette, and made Erik's heart soar with joy and pride.

As the song came to an end, Erik simply nodded as a way of showing his approval. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but snapped it back closed. "Yes?" Christine inquired, against her better judgment. But he wasn't angry, not at all. Instead he allowed his question that had been on his mind for days fall out of his mouth. "Why were you in the alley the night I found you?" Christine's eyes widened for a moment and she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. How was she supposed to answer this? "I-It's a long story." "I have time." His eyes showed nothing but kindness. Why does he care? She thought to herself. But instead of thinking about it, she simply said "If I'm going to tell my story, we should sit down. This is going to take a while.

Christine and Erik moved to the sitting room and sat down. Erik poured himself a glass of brandy and offered Christine some as well, but she politely declined. He sat up straight in his chair as a signal to Christine to begin her story. She took in a deep breath, and began to talk, starting at the very beginning.

"My mother died in childbirth with me, so my father was the one to raise me. He was an amazing violinist, Gustave Daae, perhaps you have heard of him? We traveled to, well, practically everywhere, and he would play for money. Backstage he would play for me, and I would sing along with him. It was the best time of my life.

"And then everything changed. When I was twelve years old my father passed away, and I was left alone. I wandered the streets, and ate whatever scraps I could find. I was ridiculed, shunned from society. There were people, cruel people, who would strike me for fun. The night you found me I had just come escaped from the docks. I tried to find work, but the only work there for me was prostitution. I have reached so many dark places in my life, but I could not do that to myself. They tried to force me to work for them, but I ran away before they could hurt me.

"I used to have a mask, you know. When I was younger. But of course, we grow up and we change, and the mask outgrew me. But the mask, it was a form of escape. Something that would allow me to function without shame. It was a tool designed for my comfort. But sometimes, masks aren't always a good thing. People would still ridicule me. No one wanted to befriend the masked freak. Masks are funny things, aren't they? Designed for hiding yourself from the world. That can be a great thing. But sometimes…sometimes it breaks you down. Never knowing who you truly are. But everyone has their secrets. Life is just one big masquerade ball.

By the time Christine's story was finished, Erik had finished his first glass of brandy and had poured himself a second. What cruel person could have done such things to such a sweet girl? "I had no idea. I am so sorry, Christine." "It's alright. I'm here now." "That doesn't change the past." "You're right, but it helps for a better future." He nodded, his expression blank. "You must be tired. We shall continue our lesson in the morning." She nodded. "Alright. Goodnight, Erik." "Goodnight." And with that she left to her room.

Erik took the bottle of brandy and his glass back up to his music room and sat down in a large chair and began to pour his third glass. How could something like that have happened to her? People can be cruel. He told himself.

 _Erik sat at the piano in his home, with a sheet of staff paper on the music stand that had but one measure filled in with notes. He plunked out a few chords and different notes on the piano, and wrote something down. His father heard the noise from his study, and rushed in to see what all the noise was about. When he saw his son at the piano once again, he walked silently over and grabbed the staff paper from off of the piano and looked at it. "Do not touch that." Erik said, standing. "What is this? I told you no more of this silly music." "Do not call it silly. It isn't." "It is complete and absolute rubbish! What do you ever plan to do with this, hm? You can't make this a career! You will never accomplish anything the way your acting! And then what?" Erik looked at the ground, silently steaming. And then his father did the unthinkable. He found the rest of his music from inside the piano bench, walked over to the blazing fire, and in one flick of his wrist the paper and ink were simply ash on the bricks. "No! How could you? That was the only thing I had in the world! Music! And yet you throw it in the fire as if it is nothing! That was worth more than you will ever be to me! How dare you!" And in another flick of his father's wrist, a bright red mark appeared on his cheek. "Swallow your pride and do as you are told! While you live under my roof you will follow my rules! If I ever hear or see any of this music rubbish ever again, there will be hell to pay." And he left the room, leaving Erik by himself. He ran over to the fireplace and tried to salvage the precious sheets of music, beautiful music, but they were gone. All gone. He put his head in his hands and began to cry over the loss of his beloved music_.

Erik jerked awake, quickly shaking the memory from his mind. This memory had plagued his mind for 20 years, and surely would for many more. In a way, he and Christine were similar. Shunned for something they couldn't help. But Erik could make his way in the world, find other ways of escape. Christine could not. And then he began to think of Christine, and all of the torture she had been through. He had to give Christine some form of escape, he needed to make her feel comfortable.

And he knew exactly what to do.

 **A/N: I'm back! First of all, I apologize for being away for so long! I'm not even going to make an excuse. I just don't have one to give. But hey! This is the longest chapter yet, so I'm pretty proud of that! I'm a little worried about some parts of this chapter, so let me know what you think! Please remember to review. It really makes my day! Thank you for reading!**


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